


Better than Mountain Dew

by SymmetryLocked



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Basically Jeremy is loved and supported by his friends, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, In this house we love Jeremy Heere, Jeremy dealing with the aftermath of the Squip, Jeremy's friends are heere for him, Multi, Post-Squip, Super fluffy ending, abuse mention, ish, meremine - Freeform, ptsd mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-18 21:03:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11882775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SymmetryLocked/pseuds/SymmetryLocked
Summary: Jeremy learns that Mountain Dew Red is unable to solve all his problems. Luckily, his friends might be able to.





	Better than Mountain Dew

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place a few weeks after the end of the play. Jeremy is learning how to cope.

Jeremy fell backwards and collapsed onto his bed, staring aimlessly up at the ceiling. He glanced carefully at the bottle of red Mountain Dew in his left hand and held it up above his face, staring at its vibrant scarlet color in disinterest. He liked its presence. He felt safer with the drink around, which was stupid of course—it was just a freakin’ soda—but he and Michael had gone online and ordered a shit load of them after the whole “Squip incident” had ended. He liked knowing that if a creepy, demeaning Keanu Reeves voice reappeared in his head, he could drink the soda and it would fade out again. 

Jeremy hated that little things could freak him out so much now. He was an anxious mess before all of this, and there was a time when he thought he had been getting better, but now—he hated to admit it— but things were rough. Like the time when his Dad was watching The Matrix on TV, he had to run and leave the room as soon as he heard Keanu speak, locking himself in his bedroom and chugging down a red Mountain Dew. He ignored the pounding on the door and his Dad’s concerned, “Jeremy, you okay?” as he hunched over, muttering to himself: _He’s gone. He’s gone. You’re okay._

He still woke up in a cold sweat sometimes, panting, hearing the Squip’s voice as clearly as ever in his mind— _I’m still here, Jeremy. I’m still in control—_ forcing him to do things he had no intention of doing. At night sometimes it was like he was still under the Squip’s grasp. He would close his eyes and then—

_Everything about you makes me wanna die._

Suddenly he was awake, it was the middle of the night, and he would sit up violently, heart racing.

“The loudest voice is mine.” He would remind himself softly, as he tried to even his breathing. “Mine.” But he wasn’t so sure anymore.

He always kept a red Mountain Dew by his bedside, just in case. He knew it wasn’t really doing anything for him, but its presence and taste was somehow reassuring. 

However, Jeremy soon came to learn that Mountain Dew Red was not the fixer of all problems, the miracle juice he had come to think of it as.

He was dating Christine, which felt amazing because reciprocated feelings was something he had only dreamed about for years, but anytime he tried—no, even thought about—doing anything with her, he would flinch, waiting to be shocked. Or sometimes he would get down and start to do a push-up, but stopped when he realized he didn’t have to, a concerned Christine helping him back to his feet.

And then there were the times when he couldn’t stop remembering how he had betrayed his only friend and left him alone and an incessant amount of “I’m so sorry” would spill from his mouth, Michael telling him “It’s okay, dude. It’s okay,” and wrapping Jeremy tightly in a hug whenever he saw the beginning of tears in his best friend’s eyes.

Jeremy had thought about going to see a doctor, realizing his symptoms were closely aligned with PTSD, but then images of being prescribed a gray, oblong pill flashed in his mind and—no, no he couldn’t do it. It was so stupid, _so freaking stupid_ , because he should be fine and happy and content because it was all over but he kept getting worked up over stupid little nothings that shouldn’t bother him. _I’m pathetic._  

A knock on his bedroom door interrupted his pessimistic chain of thought. It was probably his Dad, and he wasn’t really in the mood to talk right now, so he didn’t get up. Instead, he shouted, “I’m uhh—asleep! Don’t come in!” 

The door opened despite his wishes. 

“Jeremy, you really couldn’t think of something better than ‘ _I’m asleep’_ ? That’s textbook, man. I mean even if you had shouted ‘don’t come in, I’m masturbating!’ it would have been like, ten times more believable. Wait a minute, _are_ you ma—” 

“Michael!” Jeremy sat up immediately at his friend’s voice. “And Christine?” 

“Oh, thank God.” Michael muttered quietly in relief.

The two people he cared about most from his high school were standing awkwardly near the entrance of his room, which usually would’ve been a good thing, but he hadn’t really felt like socializing very much lately. 

“Your dad let us in.” Christine looked down apologetically, and Jeremy’s face reddened when he realized that Michael had just mentioned _that_ in front of _her_. 

He felt the heat rising in his cheeks. So much for not talking to anyone today. He put all his effort into not jumping back into his bed and burying himself in the covers.

“So uhhh, why are you guys here?” He realized he was still holding the bottle of Mountain Dew and, noting how dumb that must look, he immediately dropped it onto the floor and kicked it under his bed hastily.

“Real smooth, buddy. Real smooth.” Michael laughed. “We are standing right in front of you, ya know.” 

Jeremy frowned, both in embarrassment and humiliation, crossing his arms defensively. “L-look, what do you guys want from me? I-I’ve got some, uh, stuff to do so you should probably get going—” Dammit, his nervous stutter was coming back.

“Jeremy, we’re worried about you.” Christine told him sincerely, which finally shut him up and stopped his endless stream of excuses. “We noticed that you’ve been acting kinda weird lately, so we got together and agreed that we should come talk to you.” She took a seat next to him on the edge of his bed on his left side, and Michael sat down on his right. 

“Yeah man,” Michael jumped in, “last time you ignored me this much you had an evil computer thing taking over your mind and-” He stopped in his tracks, his tone suddenly dead serious. “It- it’s not back, is it? Is that why you had the Mountain Dew? Jeremy, are you—”

Jeremy interrupted him before Michael could finish his sentence, “N-no, it’s not back, don’t worry about me. I-It’s nothing like that.” Jeremy clenched and unclenched his hands nervously, gripping the edge of his bed. “I’m fine, guys. Really, I am.”

“Really?” Christine raised an eyebrow skeptically, “Because the last time you told me you were fine, you were on the floor screaming in pain a few seconds later.”  
Jeremy thought back to the time when he had first ingested the Squip. 

“Oh yeah…I forgot about that.” 

“Look Jer,” Michael interjected, “we know something’s up. Now, you don’t have to tell us what it is, you have every right to keep it to yourself if you want. We just want you to know that if you do want to talk about it, we’re here and willing to listen.” He places his hand over Jeremy’s. 

“We’re here for you Jeremy.” Christine did the same with his other hand. “If you need us.”

Jeremy knew that his face was the same color as the Mountain Dew he had kicked under his bed, but the tight feeling in his chest was somehow…warmer now.

“It’s just-” He took a deep breath and then let loose a long sigh. “It’s just so stupid.” He was about to shut up again, but drew strength from the hands on top of his.

“The Squip is gone now, but sometimes I still feel like…like he’s still here. I mean, it’s almost like I can still feel his shocks and hear his voice telling me how worthless I am. It’s almost like- like he hasn’t left. Like he’s still in control of my body or my emotions.” He talked faster as he continued on rambling, “And then sometimes I start to wonder, what if he’s still controlling what I do? Like, what if his voice changed from Keanu Reeves into _my_ voice and he’s controlling all my thoughts? Pretending that he’s me? Is anything I do even mine anymore? How do I know if my thoughts are even—”

He pulled away from his friends and buried his face in his hands.

“This isn’t stupid, Jeremy.” Christine spoke up. “It’s natural to have thoughts and feelings like these after a traumatic experience.”  
He looked at her gratefully, but still concerned.

“Look man, if you want to know if the Squip is really gone, think about this.” 

Jeremy turned to face Michael this time. 

“You’ve been stammering a bit, right? That’s something the Squip wouldn’t let you do. And look, you’ve brought back that old striped t-shirt I haven’t seen in awhile.”  
Jeremy looked down to find that Michael was right. “W-well I like this shirt.” 

“Exactly!” Michael exclaimed. “It’s something that you like—something the Squip didn’t. Plus, you remember that sleepover we had awhile back, after you got out of the hospital? When we stayed up ‘till three in the morning playing video games?”

Jeremy’s face lit up. “And we finally beat the level we’ve been stuck on for like, a month?! Hell yeah, I remember that.” 

“Well, we both know _that_ wouldn’t have happened with the Squip.” Michael reassured him, smiling but looking a little hurt. Jeremy immediately was about to apologize again for the night of the Halloween party, but Michael beat him to it. He held up his hands to stop him. “I forgive you. It’s okay, you don’t have to keep apologizing, it’s okay. You did some bad things to me, the Squip did some bad things to you, hell, we _all_ did some bad things to each other. So we’re good now and we’re past that. Got it, buddy?” Michael gave him a reassuring slap on the back.

Jeremy grinned. “Got it.”  

“Jeremy,” Christine said, and they both turned to look at her. “You’re still you. The Squip can change your look and style but it can’t change you, the _real_ you. It might take awhile to get over some of the stuff that happened then, but we’ll be right here with you every step of the way. Okay?” 

Jeremy nodded at Christine. “Th-thank you guys so much.” Overwhelmed by the support, tears welled up in his eyes, and his voice cracked a little.

“Group hug!” Michael shouted in excitement. Simultaneously, Michael and Christine both lunged at Jeremy from their respective side and wrapped him tightly in their arms. Unfortunately, they were both so overenthusiastic that they quite literally toppled Jeremy over backwards onto his bed. 

It didn’t matter to any of them though—despite all three landing with their limbs sprawled awkwardly over each other, they didn’t let go. The three of them just laid there on his bed, smothering him with their loving embrace. It was then—lying in his friends’ embrace, his face a brilliant tomato red—that Jeremy realized that he didn’t need to place his faith in the wonders of Mountain Dew. He had two people here that loved and supported him and that was all he really needed, anyway.

He went to wipe away the wetness in his eyes that had sprung up suddenly without asking, but then realized that he didn’t need to. There was no one here to tell him that crying was somehow lame or uncool, and if Jeremy Heere wanted to express his emotions with tears then he was going to do it, _dammit_! Things might not be perfect, but they were going to be okay. There were wide smiles all around. He sighed with content, his face dripping wet.

“I love you guys.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was basically an excuse to write a group hug for all of them lol. I just wanted to see Jeremy smothered in love and affection after he was emotionally/physically abused/manipulated by the Squip. This was my first BMC fic so tell me what you thought and if you want more! Thanks guys! :D


End file.
